


Just for Fun

by the_widow_twankey



Series: Steve and Seymour: Making It [1]
Category: Martin & Lewis Movies, Martin and Lewis, My Friend Irma (Movies)
Genre: (kinda), Frottage, Light Angst, M/M, Wet Dream, slight reference to period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:08:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_widow_twankey/pseuds/the_widow_twankey
Summary: During a rare break, Steve revisits some hidden thoughts.





	Just for Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically, this is the first in the series (as of now). I'm still not completely happy with it.

Steve blew smoke rings into the dimness of the storeroom, the smell of smoke mixing with citrus. The juice stand had a third employee and he's enjoying a rare break before the guy ducks out like the others. As he was tracing an imaginary pattern in the floor Seymour came in.  
  
“Steve don’t you think you been in here long enough?” He whined, “the new guy’s working me harder than you do.”  
  
Seymour bent over get something and Steve found himself staring, though, not for the first time. No harm in looking. Looking was better than thinking about other things, like holding hands and sharing milkshakes. Things that meant something.  
  
“Steve, where’s those new oranges the boss was talking about?”  
  
Steve didn’t know, he never knew things like that but still he said:  
  
“Keep looking, they should be there.”  
  
Seymour continued rummaging around while Steve got a guilty eyeful.  
  
“You ever thought about us fooling around?” He didn't mean to say that aloud, why did he say that aloud?  
  
Seymour stood up straight and looked at him like he grew a second, singing head.  
  
“You sure you aint got something funny in that cigarette?”  
  
Steve chuckled and put it out, feeling braver.  
  
“Not today kid, but you still didn’t answer me.”  
  
“Gee, I don’t know.” Seymour avoided his gaze but even in the dim he could see his blush, his shallow breaths. His hands didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves.  
  
“That’s not a no.”  
  
Cautiously, he approached giving him ample chance to escape until he had him pressed against the wall.  
  
“C’mon,” he pressed a kiss to his neck and sang near his ear, _“tingle tingle, when we mingle, just for fun.”_  
  
“You want me to stay yet you start singing.” Seymour gave a nervous chuckle that gave way to soft whimper. But Steve didn’t stop. Couldn't stop.  
  
_“Let's pretend we'll never end what we've begun.”_  
  
He pulled Seymour up by his thighs and made them come together with a most delicious friction. He wasted no time devouring Seymour’s mouth, trying convey the things he couldn’t say aloud. Eventually, they pulled apart slowly, reluctantly.  
  
“Steve.”  
  
“Sy.”  
  
Seymour cupped his face.  
  
“Why didn't you tell me?”  
  
“I just can't.” Steve pressed his face into his chest, “I can't let anything happen to you. To me, yes, but not you.”  
  
“You wouldn't let anything happen to me. You kill anyone that tried.”  
  
Steve laughed into neck, he would, he'd try. He couldn't talk about this, not now, so he pressed his hips into Seymour’s and chased that friction he's always wanted. Seymour moaned in kind and they’re rutting and it smells like sex and citrus. Steve was getting close, he nipped and bit every inch of skin he could reach and Seymour spurred him on.  
  
“Steve, oh Steve, Steve.”  
  
A hot pain shot through his thigh and just like that he’s awake with a concerned Seymour standing over him. His cigarette had fallen out of his limp hand and burned a hole through his pants.  He was crouched in the corner of the storeroom and had fallen asleep.  
  
“I'm sorry! I was trying to wake you and I didn't know you were smoking, you want me get some ice or something?” his hands traveled frantically across Steve’s leg like he was trying to put out a blaze.  
  
“I'm good, I'm fine.” he pushed him away and tried to covertly get up with his erection.  
  
“The other guy quit.”  
  
“A whole five hours, better than the last guy.” Steve was surprised how well he could talk what with how hard he was concentrating on willing his lower half to calm down.  
  
“You know, you were twitching in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”  
  
“Clocking out.”  
  
“I can’t wait to get off either but I don’t get that excited about it, what were you really dreaming about?”  
  
“Alright then, it was about someone beautiful.”  
  
“Really?” Seymour paused at door to the backroom and his voice turned quiet, “send some of those dreams my way, won’t you?”  
  
“I’d like keep them to myself,” he took his place at the bar and continued under his breath, “for now”.


End file.
